


Riven

by Syarue



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), Supergirl (TV 2015), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Barry has another ability, Double Life, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Existential Crisis, F/M, Fluff, Hostage Situations, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kissing, M/M, Meta!Len, Meta!Lisa, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Past Abuse, Prophecy, Tags May Change, Temporary Character Death, Tragic Romance, coldflash - Freeform, meta!Mick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-03-23 09:54:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13785021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syarue/pseuds/Syarue
Summary: Barry has powers to Cross the boundaries and enter fictional worlds. One night he is pulled into a story where an adventurer called Leonard Snart, with his sister Lisa and best friend Mick Rory, are heading to the lost empire of Centralys which is said to harbor the most ravishing riches in the world, and Barry joins them on their perilous journey. However, there seems to be many twists awaiting them...





	1. Prologue: A Sneak Peek

**Author's Note:**

> My main jam is the fantasy genre, so it HAD to come to this. This will be a very long and strenuous journey, but I hope you all can carry that burden together with me so that I would maintain the will and strength to finish it. JK don't feel burdened lol  
> I suck at summaries so what I wrote up there can't cover even a quarter of what I have in mind, but that's mostly because it will become a spoiler. But I can tell you some tagged characters will appear way later in the story as their roles reside there...ex) Savitar, Killer Frost, Zoom etc  
> I am thrilled to start a new story and one that will be long enough to fill the length of a decent book! But don't worry I haven't abandoned my other stories that are in progress. For now, let the feast begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For those who are curious what this story is going to be like

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have only mapped out the big plot as of now, so all the details need to be arranged soon. But I really wanted to write a portion of it to post it and get started with this novel. So this prologue acts as a brief sneak peek, and NOT the beginning of it. It's actually like in the middle, so be warned.

“You’re glowing, Scarlet,” Len whispered with mock awe glistening in his eyes.

“Stop that,” giggled Barry, feeling mildly uncomfortable. Of all puns, this guy had to choose ‘ _You’re glowing_ ’.

It was not entirely wrong, however. Sparkles of gold and crimson were starting to literally dance over his skin. Nothing new, it was, but it still wasn’t something one could witness in their everyday lives. A wash of light despondency and guilt tangled in his heart while he watched the ‘pixie dust’, as Mick called it, adding a very astral and ethereal air about him. He was feeling sorry for having to leave this world, or to be more precise; he was feeling sorry for having to leave Leonard Snart, who happened to be a _fictional_ character. Barry knew only too well in his heart that there were more pressing real-life matters to take care of, and by indulging in this little adventure inside a fictive universe, he was becoming more and more infused with the addictive euphoria of escapism. This kind of sorriness was unhealthy, and he knew it.

“Aw, your time’s up, isn’t it?” Lisa pouted as she approached the two of them with a stack of firewood in her hands. Behind her was a large tent standing on the camping ground that had been set up an hour ago. When the cascade of starlight began to overcome the sunlight, they had found a place to stay for the night.

Barry lifted his right hand to cover the crescent moon. The silvery glow seeped through his palm which was slowly turning translucent, and illuminated his face. “Yeah. Time to go home,” Barry murmured.

“To ‘reality’?” asked Lisa. They weren’t overly fond of the idea that their world was a fabricated one, so Barry was a bit guilty when he noticed the sarcasm laced in her question.

“Yes, well----uh, it depends,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head.

“It does,” Len echoed.

“What’s going on there?” A gruff voice called from across the clearing. Mick was building a small fire in front of the tent. All he was doing was pretty much sitting in front of it and reaching out to the pile of twigs and branches while his innate ability to ignite flames did magic to bring a blaze to life. Although according to the pyromaniac, maintaining the fire to stay in the ‘perfect’ zone necessitated formidable technique and concentration. Barry didn’t have fire powers----he would never know.

“Golden boy’s leaving,” Lisa shouted back. Barry lauded Lisa for her love of gold puns inside his head.

Mick was in front of him in a few strides. “Can’t miss that,” he said.

By then, Barry was no more visible than a specter, only that he was shrouded in coats of glitter and radiance. In a minute, he would be back in his----wait, where was he when he was last drawn into this story? Their time together this time had lasted for almost five days, and it was enough to opacify his grasp on what had been going on in his actual life back in Central City, as a CSI and also…the Flash.

“Duties are calling me,” Barry laughed halfheartedly. There were so many sacrifices to make to lead a double life; one in reality and the other in this fantasy world. The more he frequented this place, the fainter his family and friends’ memories of him seemed to get, like he was slowly being expunged from existence where he truly belonged. It ached and he would desperately attempt to find a way to minimize the impact of the side effect, only to learn his tries are in vain. In his defense, this certain story that he could not find a single data of anywhere gave him no choice but to be pulled into it at the most random moments. But meeting Len and setting out for an adventure in this spellbinding universe in search of a mythical Shangri-La enthralled him and the venturesome spirit that lay deep inside his heart. This was Barry’s guilty pleasure, and a costly one.

“’I hope your duties take breaks,” Len remarked wistfully. He held out his hands but retracted it shortly as if he remembered the fact that Barry was not tangible at the second.

“I’ll be back short anyway,” Barry shrugged. A part of him chided, _you seriously want to continue this at the expense of your real life?_ But he had already waded far too deep in this swamp to free himself. He didn’t _want_ to free himself, even if he could.

“Well until then,” Lisa tugged the wood closer to her. “Stay gold, Ponyboy,” she winked mischievously.

Barry was just about to cast a comment about regretting to ever teach her the quote but was interrupted by a change in the serenity surrounding them. The loudest noise one could hear inside a forest at night was usually no more boisterous than the harmony of crickets or susurrus of rustling tree leaves. But this was different. The four (soon-to-be three) explorers tensed up as the sound of horses’ hefty hooves thudding against the soft dirt bed reverberated in the sultry atmosphere. Len gave a quick signal to Lisa and Mick. But not to Barry.

“Len,” Barry called in an urgent tone but he could already feel his body and mind being hauled out of the scene. The bright disarray of gold and red was blinding him.

His body did not comply with his will. He meant to go forth, but it was as if his feet were rooted to the innermost core of the earth, restraining him from doing anything but watching the last glimpse of his friends and…whatever Len was to him, facing the unknown advancing on them from the shadows. Barry had a hunch about what was awaiting them. A queasy sensation derived from the intuition that his guess was right and the helplessness he felt because of it writhed in his stomach.

Barry wanted to say “Be safe,” but it just was not possible at this point. He was more like a huge mishmash of effulgence. He internally screamed in anguish.

“Stay safe, Barry.”

Ironically, it was the last thing he heard before the light completely engulfed him in its voracious brilliance. _Look who’s the one to talk_ , Barry thought, trying to ignore the pang of acute concern niggling at the back of his mind. But his time was really up now. He was left no other choice than to finally allow himself to the familiar momentary oblivion that submerged him as he was lead back into the world that was his own; his actual home.

 

* * *

 

“Barry? Barry!”

His eyes fluttered open to the urgent voice drilling into his eardrums. With a great flurry of movement, Barry tumbled off from his chair and landed on the lab floor with a remarkably agonizing thump. Paper rained around him as he let out a pained cry on the ground that was hardly pristine. Dust flew as his huffs of breaths brushed its surface. Oh god, this was one phenomenal sequence of failures. Barry’s face recolored itself in pink as he hurriedly used his jellylike limbs to get to his feet. One of the side effects of Crossing was this overwhelming fatigue that washed over him every time he came back from a story.

“You okay, Barr?” Joe asked with genuine concern in his voice. Oh yeah, Barry almost forgot. This kind of sight was not entirely unfamiliar to his foster father. He was the awkward dork, Barry Allen.

“I’m fine, Len,” Barry replied shakily. It took a second to realize what he had just said unconsciously. He’d messed up without even realizing it!

“Who in the world is ‘Len’?” Joe frowned, obviously confused and partially suspicious. He was a cop after all.

Five days. Five days had definitely affected him profoundly. Barry fumbled for words and rested his hand on his desk for support. “Uhh, nothing. Just a work friend,” he blabbered, barely aware of the content of the first coherent string of words that came up in his head.

“Barry, there is no ‘Len’ at this precinct,” Joe carefully informed him. Shit, how could he have forgotten the fact that both him and Joe worked at the exact same place? Again, he blamed the side effect of Crossing. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

He tried to laugh it off. “Ugh, ignore me, Joe. I-I don’t think I’m fully awake yet,” he groaned, rubbing his face with his hands.

Joe stared at him with a piercing gaze that seemed to scrutinize his mind and even inspect his soul. Barry had no idea what Joe was thinking right now but he still got shivers receiving that gaze. However, Joe eventually broke into a genial smile. Barry silently exhaled a breath he had been unintentionally holding out of relief.

“To think that I figured you were working hard to this hour,” Joe chuckled. Barry uneasily laughed along with him. “Pack your things, Barr. It’s already nine.”

“I _was_ working hard, though,” Barry timidly defended himself. It was true. He recalled voluntarily being absorbed in this sea of printed researches and studies to solve a murder case when a blinding ray of light materialized before him to whisk him yet another time into the fictional universe. One good thing was that time halted altogether during his stay in Len’s world.

“Sure,” Joe raised his eyebrow. He clearly did not believe him. “I’ll be waiting downstairs.” And then he stepped out the door.

Barry sighed as he picked up all the papers from the floor to stack them in a disorganized heap on one corner of his untidy desk. His surroundings said much about his own state of mind. _Messy_. _Baffled_. _Restless_.

After stuffing all that he needed to bring home, Barry proceeded to put on his jacket. _It was summer in Len’s world_ , a thought popped up out of the blue. He looked out the window now turned opaque from the incessant streams of the downpour slithering their way down, down, down to the ground. Winter was nearing, and this unanticipated storm came to him as a portentous sign. Even before his super senses from being hit by a ‘magical’ lightning came around, his premonitions had seldom been proved wrong. This was one of the first times he had ever wished his premonition was erroneous for once. However, as if to aggressively dishearten him for making such a luxurious wish, a ghastly lightning flashed across the window, unfurling the sinister view of the city laid out under its eerie scintillation. Barry’s skin crawled.

Len, Lisa, and Mick were no longer just fictitious individuals to him. The way they interacted with each other, the way they protected each other, the way _Leonard_ cared for Barry…if he had to choose one person out of the four that appeared to be the farthest from being alive and existent, it was _himself_. And at this precise moment, those three could be in a grave danger. Once again, that nauseous sensation returned to his stomach. Barry tore his troubled gaze away from the window with great effort and turned to leave his lab, tightening his grip on the strap of his bag.

The resounding roar of following thunder filled the air with tension and electricity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there isn't much to think about in this chapter but let me know what you have in mind in the comments! And sorry for the not-so-cliffhanger of an ending haha. You will get to find out what happened later. Thank you and love y'all♥


	2. First Impression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry is pulled inside a story he doesn't know and meets Leonard, Lisa, and Mick who happen to be adventurers on their way to a legendary realm. (+an MCU cameo)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been way too long since I posted the sneak peek chapter so I kinda feel guilty but I wanted to let you know that I most certainly have not given this story up.
> 
> This is something new that I am trying for Coldflash and hopefully it turned out nice for you:) I had fun writing it even though dialogues were covering most of it.
> 
> There's another one of my beloved hero crush that shows up at the beginning of this chapter and I am very pleased to include him♥ Enjoy!

Lightning surged inside every drop of blood in his body. The electricity running through his heart pumped up the adrenaline level as the wind’s carefree hand tousled his hair and took with it the beads of sweat that had barely started to form on his temple. His even breaths began to take a jagged manner, but only slightly. Barry was far from feeling tired. In fact, the elation ignited from the situation alone blurred out the chance for any kind of negative feelings and signs of condition to poke its head out through the dense layer of thrill. He was running so fast through the woods he couldn’t even feel the ground hitting his heels.

Barry made an audacious move to take a quick glance to his left. A trail of argent blue light flitted some ten feet behind him, and it was catching up to him at a remarkable velocity. _Oh, I won’t let you,_ he thought and resumed looking ahead to dodge trees and other sylvan obstacles that got in his way. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the last checkpoint they had set up previously zipping past him. Barry smirked, knowing that at this rate victory would be his to savor. Unfortunately, the conceited smile was short-lived.

_Crash!_

Before he knew it, Barry was violently pulled to the ground. He skidded down at least twenty feet across the forest bed, causing a spectacle of dirt, leaves, and grass (and probably bugs) showering down everywhere within a thirty feet radius. The chaos of scarlet light flickering around him faded when he finally came to a stop covered in all the filthy stuff one could find in a forest. Barry groaned but was thankful to find that nothing was broken.

“ _‘The Flash Defeated by a Loose Stone Lying in the Forest’_ ,” he muttered to himself miserably. The speedster had been so consumed in the illusory vision of the win that he had let himself trip on a stupid little rock hardly blocking his way.

Through the fog of dust Barry had created, a man approached him, laughing heartily. “You didn’t see that coming?” said Pietro Maximoff.

“Come on. Do you look down when you’re running, or up?” Barry protested, shuffling to get up as much as all his limbs seemed to creak from ache.

“I look ‘ahead’, and that includes everything that’s ahead of me,” Pietro snickered. He couldn’t blame the man for laughing. Barry Allen never failed to be a blundering oaf in front of anyone, and especially people he admired. Now, this failure was pretty embarrassing.

Brushing the leaves and dirt off of his clothes, Barry let out a half-sigh half-laughter. The situation was preposterous and surreal, to begin with. A race with freaking Quicksilver? Reading comic books was one of his many nerdy hobbies in his childhood, and the superheroes that had always intrigued him the most were the fast, daring, and unstoppable ones. When Barry got his insane powers, the ecstasy triggered from it was mostly due to the fact that he had become the impossible he had always craved to see and be when he would dive into the fictional universe to watch the speedsters sprint on and save the day. So when he unlocked the new ability not too many weeks ago, he’d used it various times to initiate a race with his childhood superstars. Today’s choice was Pietro Maximoff, from the movie version of the Avengers. For the race, Barry could technically forge an alternate space/dimension/time inside whatever fictitious universe he intended to Cross into so as not to meddle with the actual storyline, although it never changed even if he tried. The point was, he really did not want to lose to his fictional idol.

“You know, I haven’t lost yet,” Barry remarked. He took the last yellow leaf off his unkempt hair. The man in the bluish outfit raised his eyebrow at his words.

“Not _yet_ , I know,” taunted Pietro, cracking his knuckles like he was getting ready for round 2. “You should probably be thankful I stopped for you and didn’t run ahead.”

“No, you stopped to _laugh_ at me,” Barry chuckled. “So why don’t we line up for the last third of the course?”

“Sure thing, Red,” Pietro shrugged and shifted over to his side.

“Red? Really?”

“What? Your theme is red. I like red. Wanda is big on red, too,” he was almost defensive about his choice of nickname, or the color itself.

“Oh, that’s cool. I thought you were more of a ‘blue’ guy,” Barry smiled.

“Who says I can’t like both?” Pietro smirked.

“I guess, no one,” Barry shrugged.

Once they stopped goofing around, the two speedsters got in their positions and darted off to finish the match. The crackling of lightning immediately returned to shroud Barry’s figure, while Pietro left his own glow of blue behind him as he ran. This time, they were neck and neck. Barry dared not venture to cast a look to his left but only focused on the track ahead of him. Despite bolting at full throttle, getting the lead was tricky.

Then Barry decided he should try something else.

A colossal boulder was claiming a spot right in the middle of their designated course. As expected, Pietro did not halt but rapidly went around it. As for Barry, he refused to take such a prosaic route. Instead, he phased through it.

The silvery light next to him faltered for a fraction of a second when it happened. Barry used that infinitesimal moment of vacillation as a momentum to speed ahead of his competitor. Soon, Quicksilver was twelve feet behind the Flash. The gap would be closed up only through the help of another evil rock awaiting the chance to trip Barry. But no, it wasn’t going to happen.

Barry skidded to a stop when he reached the finish line with an air of simplicity. Pietro appeared only a moment after. He reclined against a tree nearby, taking some time to collect his breaths.

“Well,” Barry said, after regaining his wind, “You didn’t see _that_ coming, huh?”

The other man chuckled in disbelief, which Barry took as an indirect implication of agreement. “Red, that is _cheating_.”

“Nah, you’re just jealous,” Barry swatted an imaginary fly in the air. His eyes twinkled mischievously.

“Okay, fine, you win. But what the hell was that anyway?” his voice was filled with genuine curiosity and fascination. There was nothing about Pietro that indicated he felt crestfallen in any kind of way because of the fact that he’d lost to a speedster he didn’t even know the name of. This guy was chill.

“It’s called ‘phasing’. Uh, it’s when you vibrate your body to a certain frequency as you try to go through an object. Takes a lot of practice, but it comes as quite handy if you master it,” explained Barry, wondering if Pietro, whose powers probably originated from and worked on a different medium of force, could practice the same ability as him. As far as he knew, the Speed Force was not a thing in the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

“Noted. I am definitely going to try that later. But…,” he glanced at the high-tech-looking watch strapped to his wrist. A series of beeping noises were streaming from it. Pietro tapped on some buttons and then a small hologram-screen materialized from the watch.

Barry’s eyes widened when he saw who had made a call to the man. It was, of course, Pietro’s sister; Wanda Maximoff, a.k.a. Scarlet Witch. He knew her as Elizabeth Olsen in his world but that wasn’t really important at the moment.

“Where _are_ you?” she demanded in an obviously angry tone.

“I-I’m close by. I was…training!” Wow, this man was almost as lousy as Barry at lying. He felt bad for him.

Wanda rolled her eyes. “Whatever. We’re all waiting for you.”

“I’m sorry. I’m on my way, Wanda,” he assured her.

“You’d better be.”

“You know, I’m twelve minutes older than you,” Pietro grumbled to his twin sister. Wanda merely shook her head before she shut the screen off. With the hologram gone, the silver speedster scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

“That’s your cue, right?” Barry gestured toward his watch.

“…If I want to escape her wrath,” he gave Barry an unsure grin.

“’Kay. I’ll be off, too,” he said. “And um…I just wanted to tell you that…You inspired me as a kid. You were my role model, and that’s why I wanted to have a race with you.” To be precise, it was the comic version that was his idol, but this man in front of him was one of the various incarnations of Quicksilver, too, so he thought it should count as well. Barry beamed at Pietro.

“You won today. And I learned something new from you. Now, you are capable yourself of becoming someone else’s role model,” Pietro reciprocated Barry’s smile with his own heartening one.

Giving a pleasant nod, Barry turned around to tear through the barrier of the current world he was in to return to reality. Then a call stopped him in his tracks.

“Hey!”

He turned to look at Pietro.

“What’s your name, Red?”

He still hadn’t told his name.

“Oh, I’m Barry. Allen. It’s Barry Allen,” he answered.

“Alright, then, Barry Allen. See you around,” Pietro raised his hand to wave at him. Shortly after, he whizzed out of the scene. ‘ _See you around,’_ repeated Barry in his head. _But you won’t remember me even if I come back._ It was true. The memory of the characters in the fictional universe he chose to enter never lasted longer than the time span of one visit. Each time he entered, the individuals seldom recollected memories from the previous encounter, even though they were not at all alarmed by his sudden intrusion in their world as if he had always been a part of their story. It was at these moments that Barry came to acknowledge the chasm between his reality and these invented universes. And it always made him somewhat melancholy.

He softly sighed and then inhaled a lungful of air. About time.

In a few seconds, Barry was bathed in sheets of aureate luminescence and hints of crimson sparks surfacing here and there. The lukewarm sensation sent a fog of drowsiness to his brain as the radiance about him thickened until his sight initially blotched with light specks finally turned meaningless when the level of brightness was kicked up a notch to a full 100%. The fine thread of Barry’s consciousness snapped at that very moment.

 

* * *

 

 

On television, the movie was already rolling the credits. Barry found himself lying in an incredibly uncomfortable position on the couch with half of his body hazardously dangling off the edge. The blanket that had once been snugly wrapping him must have somehow concluded that turning into a rug offered better conditions. Barry was aware fatigue was one of the drawbacks of Crossing, but seeing himself in the midst of a mild disaster every time he returned got him thinking that maybe there were other drawbacks associated with the observed and validated one. He rubbed his dry eyes and turned off the TV blaring the credits number to the Avengers, feeling fortunate to be living alone, not for the first time.

Grogginess still lingered in his bones while Barry made a tremendous effort to scramble to his feet. Languidly switching off the lone lamp, he trudged his way to his bed, leaving the heap of mess in the living room behind. _I’ll take care of that later_ , he thought, yawning. The clock indicated that it was nearing 1 in the morning. This was the last thing Barry checked prior to speed-changing into a more comfortable set of clothes and slumping down on the mattress.

He thought he would soon be taken over by sleep, but he was wrong. Although he felt mushy after the crazy Friday night spent not-quite-alone, something unexplainable kept him above the surface of the subconscious for a long enough duration that it became rather irritating for him. Barry wasn’t able to hit the hay like an invisible wall was blocking his access to the ability to fall asleep. Boy, did it frustrate him. The speedster tossed and turned in his messy bed, trying to shut his ears from all kinds of minute nighttime noises which at this precise moment felt to him as raucous as the particle accelerator explosion.

In a desperate attempt to suspend consciousness, Barry had been refusing to open his eyes…until a new stimulation poked at his retina through the rigidly closed eyelids. Then he had no choice but to defy the strong will to keep his eyes shut. At this point, Barry was mired in a mixture of annoyance and alarm but all that lassitude and anger vaporized the moment he realized something was off.

His body was faintly glowing in gold----a sign that Crossing was imminent.

“ _What the hell?_ ” Barry yelped out loud as he threw the blanket off. Nope, definitely not hallucinating. The light was intensifying by the second.

Many thoughts crossed his mind in an unbelievably short duration. Crossing never happened unless he willed for it to happen. The only land he had been wishing to visit in the past five minutes was the dreamland, but Barry was pretty sure the undocumented jumble of random ideas stored in his unconscious mind could not count as a fictional universe with a solid plot. It wasn’t anything worth questioning. Why was this happening? How was he being drawn into another world when he didn’t intend to? Where was he being taken?

Barry’s panicked questions were left unanswered as the blinding brilliance soon consumed him.

 

* * *

 

The first thing that came to his mind was the cold. The warm bed sheet was nowhere to be seen, and in its place, clammy blades of grass were crushed under his weight. The ground was damp and the wind was howling straight into his soul. Barry was only wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants so naturally, his teeth began to chatter. The moonlight did no more than add to the cold in the atmosphere. He managed to get up on two feet while using the warmth of his hands to cover the side of his arms which had already been conquered by goosebumps. Barry had no clue where the heck he was but knew that he needed to find a place to take shelter or else he was going to freeze to death inside a storybook. Or well, whatever it was he involuntarily veered into.

Bright was not the right word choice when describing this setting. All Barry could rely on was the thin veil of moonshine and scattered flecks of amber light flickering from a distance. After blinking several times, he realized that those lights were streaming from a city that seemed pretty populous and that he was standing on a hill overlooking the city. The place looked welcoming at the moment but it was still very far from where he was currently. It would take at least a good thirty to forty minutes’ walk in the blustery weather wearing only thin and worn out clothes. Barry shivered, dispelling the idea. Unlike the cases in which he willed and planned to Cross into another world, it appeared that he was given no time to choose the type of clothing he wanted to wear once he was inside. And right now, he could feel that going back was not an option on the list, either.

The city being too far away to provide him immediate shelter, Barry didn’t know what to do. His eyes roved his surroundings in desperation, and then…Eureka! He spotted a campfire close to the line of trees indicating the start of a forest not too far from the spot in the hill he was trembling at. The rational part of his mind screamed that confronting strangers for help in this strange environment that he got whisked in in a strange way was definitely not the best plan to stick with at this wee hour of the night----much less in the middle of the untouched wild off to the side of a vast city, but the other part of the mind shivering along with his physical self, banished the luxurious concern. Barry hacked through the gale toward the dancing orange flame.

When he got close enough, he could hear the voices of the people around the campfire. When he got closer, Barry found out that there were three people talking. One woman and two men. He hoped furiously in his head that these people were not hostile. The Speed Force felt faint in his body, possibly due to the weird Crossing he’d just experienced. Unnecessary skirmish could actually turn out to be fatal. He still didn’t know if physical damages taken in the fictional world were brought along with him as he returned home yet. Barry wanted to believe the stiffness in his muscle didn’t originate from the fall he took in the previous race.

The wind died down a bit, and the rustling of his feet against the grass resounded quite loudly in the open hill. The voices halted as if they became aware of someone’s presence in the dark. Barry’s heart skipped a beat to their sudden silence.

“Who’s there?” the sharp voice of a woman snapped. Barry nearly fell over in surprise.

He figured it was better to not appear too enigmatic for them to show some hospitality to him. Barry stepped into the light and timidly said, “Um, hello,” trying his best to sound as piteous and innocuous as possible. “I-I’m just lost here and really freezing so…would you mind if I sat by your fire for a little while? Because the city----I mean, I would’ve walked to the city but it was too far and then I saw your camp so I thought maybe it wouldn’t hurt to ask…and I promise I won’t bother you, I’ll just, ah, sit----”

“Alright, kid. That’s enough. Sit here if you want,” a buff-looking guy chuckled amused at his blabbering. Barry’s face reddened thinking that he made a fool of himself like he did in almost every situation.

“Thank----”

“Wait,” the other man sitting across the first guy stopped Barry. He couldn’t tell whether that was an order or an exclamation because of the unreadable, perhaps… _confused_ expression on his face, but nervousness crept up in his heart all the same. Even with the yellowish lighting, the piercing eyes of this man gleamed in cerulean blue like two pieces of gemstone carved from ice. Instantly, a bizarre feeling churned in his stomach, like his subconscious had just espied a territory greater than his capacity of understanding. Then it was gone with the next gust of wind.

“Lenny, you don’t…” the woman sitting on the man’s left faltered and then exchanged puzzled glances with the other man.

“What is your name?” he demanded. A déjà vu? Barry couldn’t help thinking that this could have been a question to be asked after he was settled down next to the toasty fire.

“I…,” he quickly looked around. “…Barry Allen,” he answered, wondering why the ‘Lenny’ guy chose to ask ‘What’s your name?’ over ‘Who are you?’ if he was attempting to be wary of Barry’s identity.

An unsaid communication passed between the three of them and they all looked immensely bewildered even though they were doing a decent job of hiding it. He could not understand their reaction. Barry was supposed to be a complete stranger in this dominion, so why were they responding in such a way to his name? This had never occurred in his former encounters with other characters from different universes. The momentary tension was interrupted, however, when the blue-eyed man shattered the silence.

“Well, Mr. Allen,” he said, the tone changed considerably, “have a seat by the fire.” Barry noticed him putting something away in a secretive manner, but didn’t really push forward to ask about it.

He thanked them and then sat between the two men, across the young woman dressed in a fashionable attire resembling a leather jacket. Now that he had the head to scrutinize the curious wanderers, their external appearances stood out to him. Judging by their garments and the view he’d gotten of the city below, he had landed in a Medieval-ish setting. The man that had first spoken to him was wearing a white short-sleeved shirt with golden embroidery that hinted it was once a clean, classy one. He assumed that this robust-looking guy didn’t mind the chilliness as much as he did because of the fact that he was playing with fire in his hands---- _so was he something similar to a metahuman?_ On the other hand, ‘Lenny’ emanated an aura that summed him up as more of a reticent type of man, the long navy cloak covering him helping in the forming of the impression. Barry couldn’t stop thinking about what that feeling from earlier meant.

“Here,” Barry’s whirlpool of thoughts was interrupted when the cloaked man offered him a brown blanket. He must have looked pitiful shivering and curled up like that. Frankly, he was a bit surprised by the considerate side of him.

“Thank you,” said Barry, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders. The warmth finally embraced him and his body started to melt in the calefaction the fire provided.

“So, Mr. Al----”

“Barry,” he cut the girl off before she could continue. “I like to go by ‘Barry’.”

She smiled. “Okay, _Barry_. I like it too, by the way.” She took a little sip from the cup in her hands. “I thought sharing our names would be necessary since we’re sharing a fire, so…I’m Lisa Snart.”

“Oh! Nice to meet you, Lisa,” he said. Barry quickly sensed that Lisa was the most affable fellow in this little group.

“But you can call me ‘the Golden Glider’, too,” she suggested in a low voice, creating a ‘mystic’ effect. Barry stared in puzzlement.

“Lisa, stop it,” the blue-eyed man sounded not too enthusiastic about it, though.

Lisa laughed. “Oh, come on. It’s cool and they named me that. Not my choice but it’s still mine!”

“Grow up,” he replied but clearly couldn’t hide the slight smile. Barry guessed ‘the Golden Glider’ was a codename/nickname thing bestowed on by the public for Lisa. Like _‘the Flash’_.

“My name’s Mick Rory,” the man in the white shirt offered a handshake while the other two were busy having a light quarrel, to which Barry responded carefully. He had every reason to be careful. The guy had been playing with fire in his palms!

“Pleasure.”

“Yeah,” Mick mumbled and nodded. For a microsecond, Barry saw an odd glint in Mick’s eyes, in the way he was looking at Barry. What was it with these people and the sudden weird notions? He shook it away nonetheless. After the given time at this mysterious place, he was going to get summoned back to reality, possibly never ending up here again. The Golden Glider and her friends would just become a fragment of faint memory resting in the back of his head.

“Lenny, it’s your turn, now,” Lisa nudged him.

“You’ve just done the favor for me,” he dully remarked.

“Wow, hopefully your full name isn’t ‘Lenny’.”

He shook his head and turned to face Barry. Again, those bluest eyes bored into him. “Name’s Leonard Snart. _Not_ , Captain Cold,” Leonard intercepted her sister’s move for the great unveiling of his codename through gritted teeth. Lisa giggled.

“If you’re curious, they call me ‘Heatwave’.” Mick Rory blurted all of a sudden. _No wonder_ , thought Barry.

“See! Mick is fine with it,” Lisa complained to her---- _husband? Relative_?

“Oh, so are you two related?” asked Barry, gesturing toward the two of them.

“I wish we weren’t,” Leonard sighed, and it sounded like he was saying it to himself more than to Barry.

“Shut up, Len,” Lisa softly hit Leonard’s arm. “We’re siblings. Meet my cranky older brother.” Now that she mentioned it, Barry could spot a shared resemblance to their appearances.

“Len’s a bit _cold_ , but you’ll get used to it,” Mick added.

“I caught that reference,” Lisa smirked. Barry had no freaking clue about that reference. Did he say his nickname was ‘Captain Cold’, though? Was this Leonard Snart a cold-powered meta? Then did Lisa have something to do with ‘gold’? He awkwardly laughed along without knowing why they were laughing.

“Very funny and very original,” Leonard’s comment was the linguistic embodiment of pure sarcasm.

Curiosity washed over Barry as soon as the introducing-names-session ended. Since he was going to be stuck here for who knows how long (but hopefully not _too_ long), he came to the decision that learning about the place, these characters and finding out the ‘plot’ was going to be a decent way to kill the time. If these people were the protagonists, there was a good chance that he was inside a highly interesting story. A trio comprised of three people with distinct, intriguing abilities…he wondered what goal they had in mind.

“May I ask...that is, if-if you don’t mind, what your professions are?” Barry cautiously asked.

“Travelers.”

“Adventurers.”

“Thieves.”

Said Leonard, Lisa, and Mick…at the same time. A short silence prevailed.

“I…am assuming all three of them serve as answers,” Barry slowly laid eyes on each of them in that order. Honestly, the three words combined became proof that he was _definitely_ in a fascinating story. He would have a lot to hear from these folks.

“It doesn’t seem fair to include ‘thieves’ for our résumé in front of a guest we have newly acquainted ourselves with,” protested Leonard.

“We don’t exactly work to earn money, though,” Lisa countered like a confession, but Barry couldn’t find a trace of guilt in her voice.

“When we are rich, we can pay all of them back, Lisa. I thought we established that.”

“The question is, _‘when’_?” Lisa pointed out.

“When we get to Centralys,” Len confirmed. There was a decisive echo in his tone that even Barry sort of got persuaded by that response despite having no idea what any of that meant.

“What’s Centralys?” Barry’s mouth let out the question before it passed through a cerebral filter. After realizing that he had thought that query out loud, the speedster hoped he wasn’t being overly nosy.

“Kid, you been living under a rock? Or inside a----”

“Mick,” Leonard Snart halted his friend (maybe). It wasn’t an imperative tone, but Barry could tell there was a sense of warning in it. For what, though?

“Barry, we’re referring to the lost empire of Centralys. Centralys has been deserted and cut off from the rest of the world for centuries, but legends have it that at the Ciel Fontem, which is a massive waterfall located at the heart of the empire, the greatest riches mankind has yet to dream of is laid out like the stars shining in the vast night sky,” Lisa explained with her face nearly glowing from the dream and expectation.

“Legends also have it that there is the God of Speed guarding all the treasure. A very angry, powerful, and _lonely_ god.” Leonard added. He vacantly watched a petite ice crystal dancing and frolicking on his fingertips. _Huh, so he_ is _an ice-powered metahuman._ The crystal crushed away into fine dust when he came to the word ‘lonely’ for a dramatic effect.

“…And the fact that no one has ever gone and returned is sadly not a legend,” Mick scoffed. Leonard and Lisa glared at him. “Of course, _we_ are eligible. That’s why this is an adventure, not a stroll to the guillotines.”

“Mick, you _asked_ to come with us,” Leonard reminded him, annoyed.

“I wasn’t being sarcastic. I’m a man of fire, and I don’t back down because of petty threats,” he claimed. And as if to prove it, Mick provided the dying campfire with life through a fresh wave of fiery red.

“That doesn’t really sound like ‘petty’ threats, though,” Barry frowned at the fire, slightly concerned amidst the fascination that perked up upon hearing the tale. “ _‘The God of Speed’_. I’d be worried about whoever that is, even if you got there.”

“Didn’t say we aren’t,” Leonard dryly replied. “But guess what, _legends_ say that a speedster like Savitar’s only weakness, is the cold,” he went on to let a snake made of ice slither its way from his palms to the fire, which conspicuously dwindled to a medium-sized flare when the creature hissed out a frosty breath.

“Hey!” Mick yelled protective of his fire and a tiny bit offended. Leonard simply disintegrated the snake with a snap of his fingers.

“In other words, we may have means to disarm our _god_ if it comes to that,” the voice was on the brink of becoming dipped in malice. Barry gulped, noting that piece of information in mind. Leonard Snart could prove to be a dangerous man to him.

Barry cleared his throat to change the subject. “So are you guys just…marching to the forbidden land for the said riches?”

“Exactly. This crazy heist could give us astronomical wealth. But that’s not all there is to what we are doing. Like I said, we are adventurers, meaning that the adventure itself is what motivates us, honey,” Lisa’s eyes twinkled. Clearly, this woman loved and romanticized what she did. Mick grunted in agreement. Leonard nodded, but his complexion told him that what Lisa said wasn’t _everything_ everything. _Odd_ , thought Barry.

“That’s pretty sick,” he commented. Barry was being entirely honest.

“What’s your story, kid? We’ve done a lot of talking but you are a puzzle yourself,” Mick pointed at Barry with his chin. Leonard’s gaze was abruptly fixed on him. He suddenly felt awkward and uncomfortable thrown under the spotlight so he fidgeted with the hem of the blanket, self-conscious about his overall cacophonous being starting from the ridiculous clothes he was in. Barry couldn’t feel more out of place.

“There isn’t much to say,” he mumbled, frantically cooking up a believable thing to say. But then, a single thought crossed his mind. Why was he being afraid to tell his real story? After all, these were _fictional characters_ , people who didn’t know about him, who didn’t actually care. They were just two breezes briefly passing by and did not matter to each other, bilaterally. Why not just straightforwardly announce the truth.

“There has to be _something_ ,” Lisa pleaded. “Think of it as repaying for us letting you sit by the fire.”

Bravely glancing up to meet the dauntless adventurer’s stare, Barry opened his mouth.

“I come from reality,” he said.

The three travelers froze like statues and the temperature seemed to have dropped by twenty degrees. Barry immediately regretted saying it but it was his unbridled, reckless spirit that miraculously spurred him on to spill out more shocking (to them) information.

“I am from the outside world, but somehow I was whisked inside this story you guys are all in right now. Which is why I’m dressed in a style you’ve never seen before and ended up being lost around here. I don’t know where I am and when I will be taken back.”

Only the sound of the fire crackling and the pacified wind soughing through the tree leaves filled the void that Barry had created in just a few sentences. _Shit_ , he thought, brain fried.

“Barr----”

Just then, Leonard hushed his sister by gripping her shoulder and putting a finger to his lips. They ceased all movements, even breathing, tensing up as the man vigilantly studied their surroundings. Barry’s heart began to race. Whoever or whatever it was that cut short their conversation _had_ to interrupt at this moment. His fingers around the edge of the blanket tightened and he sat there with all the sensory organs in his body straining to catch any hint of hostile activity. But he couldn’t hear anything at first. What the hell did Leonard sense and how the hell did he----

“We’re ambushed,” Leonard, alarmed, growled just as an arrow flew by Barry’s face, grazing his cheek. He yelped because of the surprise more than the pain. A think streak of blood oozed from the fresh cut across his delicate skin, and it was more than enough to make the group of four jump to their feet.

Of course, that arrow wasn’t the only incoming one. Half a dozen followed, which the three travelers with each of their distinct skills blocked effectively; Leonard by creating an ice shield, Lisa by pulverizing them into golden dust, and Mick by burning them midair. Barry would have blocked one with his own ribcage, gaping at the three in awe, had he not been a speedster and dodged the lethal weapon in time. However, there was something wrong with his speed. It was as if someone had tampered with its full utilization by putting a brake on it. Just after dodging the arrow, Barry’s knees gave out and he rolled on the grass rather painfully. Leonard noticed his fall and shot a worried look at him, but before he could ask if he was okay, a group of armed men emerged from the line of trees to lunge at them.

A series of tingling sensation told Barry that bruises were beginning to form on his limbs. But there wasn’t any time to mourn this fact, with these angry men pouncing upon the four metahumans, all of them clearly mounted with killing intention. They were engulfed in a large clamor in a matter of seconds. Barry had barely the time to recover from the fact that he was cast inside an anonymous story out of the blue without being provided a plausible reason why, to meeting three unique, somewhat ambiguous individuals, but the next thing he knows, he was in the midst of a life-and-death situation. _He needed a fucking break._

Not a BRAKE, though, for heaven’s sake! Without having a proper access to the Speed Force, Barry was pretty much weaponless. Their enemies were charging at them with clubs and swords but Barry Allen had no such thing, not even a freaking pen, in his position. Who the hell would carry a pointy object to bed, anyway? And even if he did, anything else besides his own body and the clothes he had on was usually not transported along.

“Ah!” Barry yelled. It was getting harder to protect himself from the chaos of the fight, and he’d gotten a little far from the rest of his group in the frenzy. There was a crazy maniac obsessed with giving Barry a bash in the head. He was swinging his menacing wooden bat like a madman but the speedster currently lacking the adequate speed was struggling not to get hit or fall again.

“Come here, you brat!” bellowed the masked man. This time, the club exactly struck Barry’s hand. Barry let out a stifled yell as he cradled his injured left hand and stumbled.

“Barry!!” Leonard cried, seeing him fall. Barry’s head turned to his direction, in spite of his mind turning hazy from the acute pain. He could tell his bones were shattered. “ _Run!_ ”

What?

“Not a chance, boy.”

He saw the club coming at him in slow motion, but his feet were tied to the ground by an inexplicable force. All that was left of his speed left him at that precise moment, like a wavering candlelight being snuffed out of existence. Leonard’s ‘ _Run_ ’ reverberated inside his skull, but Barry knew he wasn’t able to.

The club hit his head, blurring his vision, and knocking him out cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man I love cliffhangers LOL  
> I hope you liked this chapter and please leave any ideas or encouragements in the comments below!  
> Actual responses from readers really motivate me and they are how I find the courage to write on.  
> Thank you  
> I-/


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